


Heart Strings

by misura



Category: Dragon's Winter - Elizabeth A. Lynn
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Three things had always set Azil apart from the other boys his age.
Relationships: Karadur Atani/Azil Aumson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Heart Strings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [florianschild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florianschild/gifts).



Three things had always set Azil apart from the other boys his age: firstly, his voice, which was that of a singer's, secondly, his hands, which were those of an artist and thirdly, the fact that he was best friends with Karadur Atani, also called Dragon.

Karadur had only recently begun noticing the second; Azil's mother, having witnessed all three things for years, had responded by gifting Azil with a harp for his birthday.

It was a somewhat beaten-up instrument, which had made it affordable. Old, or merely ill-used: Aum cared little, and Azil less, as Aum had arranged lessons for him at the same time.

The idea had been sound in theory.

In practice, it led to Azil and Karadur spending even more time together, rather than less.

Karadur was watching the light. It was spring: not yet warm, but comfortable enough even for those more sensitive to the cold than Dragon. Azil was practicing a bit of fingering he claimed to be 'tricky', which Karadur knew meant that Azil wanted him to be quiet.

A mere steward's son did not, naturally, utter commands to Dragon.

Still, it was entertaining to watch Azil practice. Karadur liked watching the expression on his face, the movement of Azil's fingers, the curve of Azil's smile as he got it right - and the light, falling on Azil's face, Azil's hands. There was a certain magic to it, albeit of a rather gentle nature.

Karadur liked the way it made him feel. He hadn't bothered analyzing the sensation much beyond that: he liked it, and he knew Azil liked that he liked it, and if there was more to it than that, they had all the time in the world to figure it out together.

" - shy," Azil said: the end of a sentence.

"What?" Karadur said, because Dragon did not admit to weakness, and saying _'I was too busy watching you to pay attention to what you were saying'_ would make him feel foolish.

Azil half-grinned, the way he did more and more often nowadays. Karadur liked that grin, too. It was a grin that said, _'I know that you are Dragon, and I am not, but we are still friends, and as your friend, I will sometimes feel free to laugh at you and tease you'_.

"Your brother told me he suspects you're shy," Azil said. His tone was light. Karadur and his brother argued as often as not. Had they both been Dragon, that might have been a problem; as it was, it was not - at least not to the castle at large. Karadur was Dragon: he would be their next Lord.

Tenjiro would be their next Lord's brother, but never more. He was respected; he was feared, but he was not Dragon. On the one hand, this was as it should be. On the other, it made Karadur try to be more considerate of Tenjiro's feelings, inasfar as such was possible.

Azil plucked a string of notes that sounded half-familiar.

One of the old ballads, Karadur decided. He frowned. "Why?"

Azil looked at him. "Why do you think?"

"Because he knows that you would tell me, and he hopes to annoy me without him being there," Karadur said. It was a fair guess, he felt, even if it side-stepped the true question. Tenjiro was observant, and while Karadur had tried to be subtle about his interest, he knew subtlety did not come naturally to him. Dragon had no need of being subtle.

Azil chuckled. "Probably, yes." A beat, and his expression turned serious again. "Not that I would speak ill of him. He's your brother, and I like him well enough. Most of the time."

"Most of the time," Karadur agreed. He would have cut down any man who insulted his brother without hesitation. But this was not that, and Azil was not any man.

"So you don't think you're shy?" Azil asked. He was smiling again, the light playing over his hands as they moved over the harp.

Karadur imagined the taste of Azil's smile, the feeling of Azil's hands in his own, and then, later, on his skin, as his own hands explored Azil's. Dragon did not feel cold, and was unbothered by heat, but Karadur felt warm, uncomfortable. Restless.

He did not want to move too fast, to take anything that had not explicitly and without his asking been offered to him, yet he was aware that part of him cared nothing; part of him only _wanted_ and did not mind whom he might hurt in the taking.

Perhaps Tenjiro was right, to call him 'shy'. Yet Karadur would rather be called 'shy' than 'tyrant' - or, perhaps, 'Dragon', though he knew that to be a foolish thought, and unworthy. He _was_ Dragon. Nothing and no one could change that, make him be not Dragon.

It did not mean he had to be like his father, or like the dragon-king from the story, who locked up his wife in a tower, and who lost one of his sons at the hands of another.

"What do you think?" Karadur asked, forcing himself to lean back. To wait.

Azil's hands moved: something quick, and light. A popular drinking song. His mother might have threatened to box his ears if she'd heard him speak the lyrics: they were not fit for the ears of children, though Azil had stopped being one some time ago.

Still, mothers were not always rational about such things - or so Karadur had been made to understand.

Azil grimaced. "You're not shy. Usually."

"Usually," Karadur repeated. He might tell Azil, _kiss me,_ and he knew Azil would obey.

Azil cocked his head and said, "Don't. You're letting him get to you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you."

"But you did tell me." He might tell Azil, _let me put my hands on your body,_ and Azil would let him.

"I wanted - " Azil hesitated. His hands were still.

 _You are not the only one who wants,_ Karadur almost said. _Can't you see? Are you blind?_

"Never mind. Forget it. It was stupid," Azil said. His movements were clumsy, then became more confident. He had a gift for music. Karadur would not have trusted himself if Azil had been a soldier, but he thought he might trust himself with a musician, a singer. Someone who would be there when he came home, to make the nights seem brighter, and less long. Someone to make his life less lonely.

Someone who would be his friend first and foremost, who would be loyal, and true, and brave, and never ever in a position where duty would demand he put his life before Karadur's or anyone else's.

"Yes," Karadur said.

Azil half-grinned at him again.

Karadur might tell Azil, _never stop grinning at me like that,_ but it would be an impossible order to obey, because even Dragon could not command other people's feelings.

"You're not shy. You're just young," Azil said. "I shouldn't - "

Karadur rose and kissed him, and Azil's grin tasted like the light: warm and bright and alive and free.


End file.
